Garden poems describe flowers, trees, and landscapes in a way that makes you feel happy and fresh. A garden is a place where flowers, plants, and trees make a colorful home.
Strolling through a garden is like taking a refreshing breath of nature. Each corner holds a secret, waiting to be discovered by curious eyes.
Garden poems remind us of the importance of preserving nature and finding inspiration in the simplest aspects of the natural world.
Many of these poems explore themes of growth and resilience. They remind us to care for the Earth and find joy in the little wonders around us. Let’s read some famous garden poems and enjoy them.
A Wondrous Show
So lush and alive, my garden grows,
Vibrant flowers like a wondrous show.
Lush green grass in the wind does sway,
A blazing canvas of color each day.
Daisies and petunias of yellow and white,
Blooming roses cause delight.
The blooms are brightly aglow,
Enchanting beauty in each row.
A Beauty To Behold
By Catherine Pulsifer
Gardens, a beauty to behold,
Flowers that come from deep in the soil unfold,
The colors of pink, lavender, and yellow,
The beauty has stopped many a fellow.
Peace and serenity are what it brings,
The garden even makes the birds sing.
Walking through the garden in bloom
Can help take away any gloom.
A Garden Fair
By Helen A. Fussell
I will sing you a song
Of a garden fair,
Wherein were sown seeds
That brought blossoms rare.
Love, joy and kindness,
And hearty good cheer,
Were the seeds that were sown
And flowered here.
The garden fair
Was a little child’s mind,
And the seeds were these thoughts,
Just the very best kind.
Bounty Of Gifts
Sown in the earth, seeds begin to grow;
No time for doubt, just pause and know,
That satisfaction comes from planting a garden so.
Watching carefully as each seed takes root and grows.
Each day brings new growth and life does spout.
With patience comes reward for hard work no doubt.
Now harvesting vegetables to eat is the treat;
The bounty of these green gifts can’t be beat!
The Little White Flower
By Florence Scollard Brown
A little white flower so pure and rare
Once shyly grew by a garden wall.
The Gardener turned from the roses tall
To gather – long He had watched her there –
The happy little white flower.
But softer ever the breezes blew,
And sweeter carols the songsters trilled;
Prayers more earnest the garden filled,
Hearts grew cleaner and lives more true
Because of the little white flower.
Morning Glory Buds
By J. H. Johnston
No folded morning-glory bud
Blooms, closes fast, then blooms again:
Once shaken out, the colors fade,
The beauty’s gone for aye, — but then,
New buds will open to the day
When next the early morn awakes;
So, though some bright things pass away,
My heart some hopeful comfort takes.
Our “life hath many mornings,” so
Hath said some rarely gifted one;
And morning-glory buds will bloom
With every summer-morning sun.
In A Garden
By Dorothy Frances Gurney
The kiss of the sun for pardon
The song of the birds for mirth,
You’re nearer God’s heart in a garden
Than anywhere else on earth.
Making A Garden
Man plows and plants and digs and weeds;
He works with hoe and spade;
God sends the sun and rain and air,
And thus a garden’s made.
He must be proud who tills the soil
And turns the heavy sod:
How wonderful a thing to be
In partnership with God.
Sweet is the fragrance in the air,
The cool and laughing breeze;
The gardens now are wondrous fair
With blossoms on the trees.
The hills and valleys now are green
And all the world is gay;
And nestlings carol loud and clear
To welcome you, sweet May.
A Garden Is Lovely Place
By William Arthur Ward
A garden is a lovely place,
Where seeds burst through the sod,
A garden is a partnership,
Between two hands and God.
A garden is a restful place,
Where gentle breezes blow. . .
A family of growing things,
Where souls can also grow.
Plant The Seeds
By Catherine Pulsifer
Let’s plant the seeds they said
So we took the seed and spread.
For there is hope in each little grain,
To bring a harvest we can gain.
The same is true for life today,
What we nurture and cultivate along the way.
Expectations of results arise each day,
It matters what we do and say.
A Garden Can Be
By Catherine Pulsifer
A garden can be a place of peace for me
Watching nature and flowers be
The gentle breeze that blows around
Can be such a gentle sound.
A garden can be a place to work
With weeds attacking in the lurk
While we dig them out of the dirt
The weeds our flowers will not hurt.
A garden can be a place of beauty
Filled with flowers that are so groovy
A tiny seed planted, and then it blooms
The fragrance can soon consume.
The garden – a place for all to enjoy
Even for the little girls and boys.
It is a place to see nature in action
Gardening can be such a passion!
The Fruit Garden Path
By Amy Lowell
The path runs straight between the flowering rows,
A moonlit path, hemmed in by beds of bloom,
Where phlox and marigolds dispute for room
With tall, red dahlias and the briar rose.
‘T is reckless prodigality which throws
Into the night these wafts of rich perfume
Which sweep across the garden like a plume.
Over the trees a single bright star glows.
Dear garden of my childhood, here my years
Have run away like little grains of sand;
The moments of my life, its hopes and fears
Have all found utterance here, where now I stand;
My eyes ache with the weight of unshed tears,
You are my home, do you not understand?
My Garden Is A Pleasant Place
By Louise Driscoll
My garden is a pleasant place
Of sun glory and leaf grace.
There is an ancient cherry tree
Where yellow warblers sing to me,
And an old grape arbor, where
A robin builds her nest, and there
Above the lima beans and peas
She croons her little melodies,
Her blue eggs hidden in the green
Fastness of that leafy screen.
Here are striped zinnias that bees
Fly far to visit, and sweet peas,
Like little butterflies newborn,
And over by the tasselled corn
Are sunflowers and hollyhocks,
And pink and yellow four-o’clocks.
Here are hummingbird that come
To seek the tall delphinium-
Songless bird and scentless flower
Communing in a golden hour.
Nothing is so beautiful as spring—
When weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush;
Thrush’s eggs look little low heavens, and thrush
Through the echoing timber does so rinse and wring
The ear, it strikes like lightnings to hear him sing;
The glassy peartree leaves and blooms, they brush
The descending blue; that blue is all in a rush
With richness; the racing lambs too have fair their fling.
What is all this juice and all this joy?
A strain of the earth’s sweet being in the beginning
In Eden garden.—Have, get, before it cloy,
Before it cloud, Christ, lord, and sour with sinning,
Innocent mind and Mayday in girl and boy,
Most, O maid’s child, thy choice and worthy the winning.
My Sunset Garden
By Althea Randolph
The rainbow hues at eventide
Are flowers in the sky.
Which bud and blossom one by one
Up in my Garden high.
The Violet lifts her modest head
And looks the wide world through.
Then quickly comes the dainty bloom,
Forget-me-not of blue.
Glad Marigold and Roses red.
With emerald leaves about.
Chase Dandelion and Mignonette,
While Clovers pink peep out!
Next Mister Dusk-man wanders forth
With his great cloak of gray
And covers up my pretty flowers,
And hides them all away!
But well I know when night is gone,
And day-time hours fly by,
That once again my flowers bright
Will blossom in the sky!
This is all about garden poems.